


run me like a river

by Skylark42



Category: Red Embrace (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Rimming, River!Heath, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark42/pseuds/Skylark42
Summary: Randal hates Heath--but he loves River.
Relationships: Randal/Heath
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	run me like a river

**Author's Note:**

> So I just got this game and I'm obsessed with it. There seriously needs to be more fic, so I plan to supply some. Also, the dub con warning is for Heath having sex with Randal as his River persona, and Randal doesn't know it's actually Heath with a glamour. I don't know if that counts as rape, but it's definitely fucked up, so I marked it dub con. Also, Heath's mental health is not the best here.

There are no happy endings.

That's one thing Heath's learned living in Hollywood. Happy endings only exist on the screen, never in real life.

There are no happy endings, but sometimes there's a happy middle. Something between the beginning and the end that's enough to survive the ending. Something worth the pain of it all. And vampire's...their stories can last forever. There can be an endless sea of middle before that final, fatal end.

He never thought this would end well; he knew it was damned from the start.

But weren't they both damned anyway? Might as well have something good to hold onto, some bright, shimmering memory to cling to while it all burned away.

No, he knew it wouldn't end well, but it could be good, until it ended

After all, there were no happy endings, just convenient places to put the credits. He could slap the credits somewhere better in his memory, and make it picture perfect.

All he had to do was pretend.

///

It starts like this.

River is a face he wears more and more often. Heath feels less like a real person, but River? River knows he's just a mask, so he can be anyone. He doesn't have to be Heath anymore, Heath who never knew what he was or what he wanted, except to be loved. An empty vessel that he kept trying to fill with whatever scraps of affection he could find, with ideas and ideals that he borrowed from whoever would give him the time.

He hates Heath, but River is free. River doesn't need to be loved because River doesn't exist, River is all shiny surface and nothing below, River can just be. River loves no one and nothing hurts him.

The war is over and people know Heath had a side in it. River didn't care about war or politics. River didn't care about anything.

Ash lets all the major players stay in Hollywood if they play nice, play by her rules. She's a fair leader, but the aftermath of a war is far from pleasant, regardless of who leads. No one tells you that, they don't show it in the movies, how tedious and depressing the after is. How goddamn boring.

Saturnalia becomes the place those who lost in the war go to drink away their misery. Heath doesn't run it anymore. He still visits, because where else will he go?

Randal goes there often. Once to meet up with other Maavar, now to escape them. He sided with Ash in the war, gave his support to her and the Maavar backed him. But though Ash's restrictions are far less harsh, they aren't the anarchy the clan wants. Randal is who hears this, who is supposed to make Ash come around to their side, see things their way. It's only a matter of time before she becomes seen as an enemy and the whole cycle starts anew. And Randal is tired. Heath knows this because he is tired, and he sees that same tiredness reflected in Randal's eyes.

“You new, kid? I haven't seen you around.”

There's something else in his gaze, something dark and longing to escape. It frightens Heath, but it's the sort of thing River finds exciting. “I came after the war.”

It's not exactly a lie, except it is, but what does that matter? Plenty of vamps came after the war, and plenty left. Lots of new vamps running around too, now that restrictions on turning them were lessened.

He holds out a delicate hand, smooth, perfect fingers and clean, trimmed nails. River is the image of perfection and beauty. “My name is River.”

Randal engulfs his small hand in his large one. Shakes it. “Randal.”

And that's how it starts.

///

He can only keep up the River disguise for so long, so their meetings are brief. Heath remembers that Randal hated Heath, but he warms right up to River. Heath can also see the heat in Randal's eyes when he looks at River, the lust there simmering.

The first time is in the bar's bathroom—the bar is the only place they've talked so far—and it's quick and dirty. Randal keeps asking him if he's sure as River sinks down to his knees and takes him in his mouth. Mutters something about him being pure. Heath knows nothing in this town is pure.

River takes as much of him as he can, chokes around his cock and gags on it until tears are falling down his cheeks and drool leaks from his mouth. Randal's hands are on his head, at first just there for gentle guidance, but now to force him to take him deeper to pull him along his cock. River is harder than he's ever been in his life.

After Randal comes he drags River up and wraps a rough hand around him, bandages course against his skin. There's no gentleness in it and River doesn't ask for any. He leaves the restroom first, and walks straight out of the bar without looking back.

Later, when he's Heath again he'll realize he never even kissed Randal first. The lack of romance once would have made him sad, but now, now he just laughs and laughs.

///

The next time they barely speak a word. River sees him at the bar and gestures with his head towards outside. Randal follows him. They fuck next to the dumpster, the putrid smell filling River's nose, so much he can almost taste it in his mouth.

The wall scratches against his back, but the pain feels nice. His legs are vice tight around Randal's waist, and he's pretty sure the bar patrons can hear him moan from inside.

“You take it so good, so fucking tight.”

River drowns out the sound of Randal's voice. It doesn't matter what he says—they're just words.

Someone passes by the alley and Randal forces a hand hard over his mouth, covering his moans. River comes so hard his nails scrap blood from Randal's neck.

He almost feels content.

///

The third time is at the beach house—Randal invites him over, says he wants to fuck him in a bed. River goes with him, ignores the looks the lingering Maavar give on his way inside. Heath would wonder what they think, but River doesn't care.

When he sinks down on Randal's cock it feels like salvation, feels better than any high he's ever had. He rides him until his thighs burn with the effort, until he's shaking. Randal barely has to wrap a hand around him before he comes, light bursting behind his closed eyes.

He gets up to leave after—he can only hold unto River so long.

“You ever going to stick around after?”

River smiles and leans down to kiss him, light and fleeting. It's their first kiss. “Maybe one day.”

He leaves without looking back.

///

The next time, River just shows up at the beach house. The Maavar there look at him with suspicion, but none of them will question Randal, even if he is fucking an Iscari. Randal is surprised to see him.

“I'd call first, but I don't have your number.”

Randal kicks the rest of the vampires out. He's gentle about it, but there's no room for argument in his voice when he asks them to leave. River gets quite a few jealous looks from them on the way out. It makes something warm tingle down his spine.

They fuck on the couch, River bent in half over the back of it and Randal pounding into him. He slams into him so hard he gets lifted to his toes, and it's good, it's so good. River can't stop saying his name, desperate, pleading.

“Stay,” Randal growls into his ear, and River shakes his head.

“I can't, I can't, I'm sorry.”

He gives Randal his number before he leaves, tells him to call when he wants to see him. He gets Randal's number as well, though Randal tells him he's allowed to just show up when he feels like it.

This time, he looks back before he leaves.

///

Heath loses track of the times they fuck. River will call Randal, or Randal will call River and they'll meet at the beach house. River always leaves after they finish. He can't afford to stay long. Too long and he'll turn back into Heath, and Randal hates Heath. But he likes River.

River has never felt more real than when he's with Randal.

Sometimes, they'll chat before or after. Nothing too serious, until eventually it is.

“How did you get turned?”

The sheets are cool beneath River's side as he lays curled against Randal, head on his chest, Randal's fingers in his hair. Heath doesn't have a story for River, so he tells the truth. “My mother turned me.”

The fingers still for a moment. “That's pretty messed up.”

“I used to think it was because she loved me too much to let me die, but now I think it's because she didn't want to be alone.”

Randal looks down at him, something in his eyes akin to pity, but no, not pity. Compassion. It feels strange, Heath is used to pity, but compassion is rarer indeed. “She still around?”

River shakes his head. “No, she left. She's probably dead now.”

Heath would have felt sorry for himself saying it, but River isn't a creature of self-pity. There's not enough self there to pity, in any regard. He shrugs. “It doesn't matter now.”

He sits up, starts pulling his clothes on. Randal sighs next to him. “Running off again?”

River leans in and kisses him softly, feeling the scratch of his beard against his cheeks. It feels nice. “I have to go.”

“You could stay.”

River shakes his head. “You wouldn't like me if I stayed.”

“I like you now.”

River smiles. “You don't know me.”

How can he? River doesn't know himself.

///

Sometimes, Randal calls just to chat. Just to hear his voice. They can talk on the phone like this for longer—it's easier to fake a voice than a face. It's not just Randal who calls—River starts to call him when he wakes, or just before he falls asleep. It's nice. They talk about nothing and everything. The latest movies and music, boring, pointless drivel. But it's nice, having someone to talk to.

The more questions Randal asks, the more Heath has to answer, because River doesn't know. He says whatever thoughts fly into his head. River feels more and more real, and Heath less and less.

Heath wishes he could just disappear and be River forever.

///

River's thighs are pleasantly chaffed from beard burn, and his body is humming. Randal is diligently working between his legs, eating him out with a voracity that has his fangs nipping against him occasionally, making tears that heal back right away. He's already came once, just from this, but Randal seems determined to get him there again.

It's a strange time to realize he might be in love. (River is in love, at least. But is Heath? Is it the same? He doesn't know anymore.)

River realizes he's said something to the affect out loud, because Randal stops moving. River tightens his grip on the sheets and buries his face in the pillow. “Randal, I-”

“In love, huh? I like the sound of that.”

There's a kiss on his lower back, a line of them traveling up his spine until lips reach his ear. “What if I told you I felt the same?”

River nearly cries. Because this isn't real, it isn't real. He doesn't know River is Heath, and Heath can't be River forever. “You don't. You think you do, but you don't. You don't know the real me.”

“Yeah? Then who is the real you?”

Is it time to come clean? Maybe Randal will still stay, once he learns the truth. Because Heath is River, isn't he? Isn't he? Aren't they the same person, just with different faces?

“I can show you who I am, but you won't like it.”

Randal almost laughs. “It can't be that bad, kid.”

River stands up. Pulls on his clothes. He doesn't speak. He turns around and lets his glamour drop. Randal's eyes change, darken. Heath feels afraid. What will happen now? Randal looks like he could kill him. “I can explain-”

“Get out.”

Randal's rage is barely contained, his voice full of disgust, his eyes losing all their previous warmth. Heath turns and leaves, forces himself not to look back, not to show the tears blurring his vision.

He always knew this wouldn't end well.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments give me the validation Heath so desperately seeks. But seriously, I can't be the only one who thought these two had ship potential, right? Tell me what you think.


End file.
